CHROME ON FIRE
Talented, uncompromising, and often changing directions, the late David Aaron Clark was a good bet to produce a decent fanzine, but one suspected it wouldn't last long. Chrome On Fire was intended to be published four times a year; I have no proof that it lasted beyond issue #2. As its focus was New Brunswick and its surroundings, outsiders might (in fact, did) complain that band interviews with the likes of Catharsis and Spiral Jetty went on far too long, but insiders were entertained. And where else would you find live reviews of Moby Dick and Destroy All Bands, and record reviews of P.E.D. and Hip Shy? So call it the literary equivalent of a Court Tavern show — riffing on the Brunswick underground for its participants and few others.
Clark's approach to criticism was equal parts exultant passion and sheer disdain. A key inspiration was the late, great Forced Exposure, in which Jimmy Johnson and Byron Coley dabbled in iconoclasm even when they loved the idols in question (everyone else got ripped completely apart). As was his method in all creative endeavors, Clark surrounded himself with people he liked and trusted. This meant he believed you had talent; he had no use for you, as friend or associate, if he assessed otherwise (his blind spots could be staggeringly large). I was one of those in his talent pool, and our relationship was complicated and rarely a joy (in the second issue masthead, Clark describes me as "God-like, but with feet of clay"). But he challenged me in ways no other peer did, and I would guess many who worked with him would say likewise. What he got for his trouble was a couple issues of prime local content.
Chrome On Fire's text was computer composed, with photos and other art pasted on via waxing. After which Clark used any (free) copying services available to him. Fortunately, he had John T. Quinn III to spruce things up; Quinn's illustrations and comics survived the copier in ways that photos never could back then. Most of the textured graphics for issue #2 were created via double-exposure using a horizontal stat camera, with the first exposure being aluminum foil or something (see pages 8-11). I assembled the cover of issue #2, but it's photographer Gus Menezes who did the multi-generation copying of his driver's license for the creepy effect.
[CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE]